


Midnight Snacks

by AngelWithAStory



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Banter, Friendship/Love, One Shot, hunger, midnight snacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you get a case of midnight munchies....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Snacks

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short one-shot because I was hungry while watching Sherlock. probably more on the way, but different Fandoms because it's easy to write about. Enjoy! :)

John’s eyes opened sleepily and the world slowly came into focus around him. The gnawing pain in his stomach intensified as his mind cleared from the residue of sleep. His alarm clock displayed the time 12:07. John groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm. He knew he’d have to get up for something to eat. The only problem was he couldn’t be _bothered_. Eventually, hunger won over and John rolled out of bed, careful to make minimal noise. John padded down the stairs to the kitchen, stopping anytime the stairs creaked under the weight. No lights were on in the front room, so John assumed it was empty. He groped for the light switch – it always seemed further away than he remembered – and flicked the lights on. Sherlock groaned at the sudden flood of illumination. He was perched on a chair, fingertips pressed together and resting on his lips. Sherlock was thinking, probably about a recent case.

“Sherlock, what are doing up this late?” John asked, conscious of his scruffy pyjamas.

“John, there’s no time to sleep. I only sleep when absolutely necessary; otherwise it is pointless to waste hours of our lives.” Sherlock replied, his eyes flickering to his roommate. “Why are you up?” he questioned, swinging himself out of his seat.

“Midnight snacks.” John answered, heading over to the fridge. Forgetting about Sherlock’s habit of stashing severed body parts in the fridge, John swung open the door and jumped back. A head was perched, its glassy eyes staring right into John’s soul. John spun around, silently demanding an explanation from Sherlock

“Sorry about that, I’m measuring the firmness of eyes after death. Hope you don’t mind.” Sherlock said, a faint smile on his face.

“Okay, can you just give me a warning next time?” John shut the fridge door and swooped over to the cupboard above the kettle. He pulled down his favourite mug and grabbed a teabag from the box and flicked the kettle. “Hiding dead bodies anywhere else in the kitchen?” John questioned, peering in the fridge and quickly snatching the milk.

“Not whole bodies; I could never sneak that out under Molly’s nose. Subtlety was never your strong point, was it John?” Sherlock replied, watching John pour the boiling water into the mug. The stream rose rapidly and began snaking in the air above John’s head.

“I was a soldier Sherlock.” John said indignantly, putting the milk back in the fridge, once again ignoring the severed head. “Biscuit?” he asked, holding out the packet of digestives. Sherlock took one and gingerly took a bite. John put the packet on the counter and picked up his mug of tea. Sherlock’s nose wrinkled at the dry taste of the biscuit and John chuckled.

“What?” Sherlock demanded, putting the biscuit on the table.

“You look like a cat.” John said, dipping the digestive in his hot tea and quickly biting into it. Sherlock frowned and John chuckled again.

“What now? Do I still look like a cat?” Sherlock interrogated, looking put out.

“No, it’s just cute. That’s all. Goodnight Sherlock.” John replied, taking the packet of biscuits upstairs with him. Sherlock resumed his place in his chair and started thinking again. A smile came to him and Sherlock chuckled to himself.

“John called me cute.” He whispered out loud, sinking lower into the chair and letting sleep wash over him.


End file.
